Separate Ways
by Shanigh
Summary: Midii Une takes a trip to the circus only to find that an old friend has died. It's time for them to go their separate ways.


Disclaimer: I do not own _Gundam Wing_, nor do I own the characters of Trowa Barton (Triton Bloom, Nanashi, No Name, whatever), Catherine Bloom, or Midii Une. I don't even own the lion. I am writing this for my own enjoyment and hopefully that of others; I make no profit, monetary or otherwise, from the writing of this fiction.

A/N: This was meant to be a whole lot shorter. I kind of got sidetracked at the circus scene. (anime sweatdrop) I don't even know if some of those things are possible (though I think they are, or I wouldn't have written them), and I extended anything we ever saw in the show, but I had fun, and I suppose that's the whole point of fanfiction. The main character of this piece is one who, from what I can tell, is little seen in the fandom, since she wasn't in the anime at all. Still, she fascinates me, so, here goes!

* * *

It was a poster. 

It was a pretty thing, really. Through a murky haze of shock she could pick out every color of the rainbow, from the most vibrant of reds to the softest of purples. People and animals were painted in such detail that they looked as if they were about to leap from their two dimensional world to dance about her in three dimensional glory. She barely saw them.

There was just one face that held her attention. Near the center of the poster, two people had the spotlight. The first was that of a young woman a few years older than herself. Her hand was on the shoulder of a teenage boy, perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old. His arms were around a ferocious looking lion. Despite the big cat's fangs, which were bared in a silent snarl at the audience, the boy seemed unafraid. Indeed, he seemed to be feeling nothing at all. Half of his face was covered in a harlequin's mask, something that was, she decided, entirely fitting for him. She wondered if he had ever learned to take off his _other_ mask, that emotionless façade he had mastered before most boys his age had entered kindergarten.

It was the eyes that she remembered the most. Well, the eyes and the hair. It was messy as ever, the bangs covering one of his eyes exactly as she remembered. Brilliant green eyes, they were, eyes that had haunted her every move since that fateful day so long ago.

She never expected to see him working in a circus. Not him, not the lost little soldier boy who had made his home on the battlefield. Then a memory drifted back to her, of nostalgia breaking through the mask and shining in those eyes. He had denied it then, but she hadn't believed him. She smiled. Yes, a circus was the place for him, at least now that the war was over.

Making a hard decision fast, she pulled out a pen and wrote the date and time of the show on her palm. She would be there. She would be there to see her Nanashi.

* * *

The show was amazing. She had never been to a circus before, though she had often longed to go. The performers, human and animal alike, were incredibly skilled. They executed their stunts flawlessly, drawing _ooh_s and _ahh_s from the crowd. She had clapped as hard as the rest. 

And then _he_ had stepped onto the stage, the first time she had seen him in years. His acts, she could honestly say, were her favorite, though perhaps she was a bit biased.

There were two of them. The first was with the woman she had noticed in the poster earlier. They were introduced as brother and sister, and her heart soared for him. He'd finally found family.

And a name. He had a _name_ now, too. _Trowa_.

His sister traced a perfect outline of him in knives, making her audience gasp. The final knife, she threw straight at his heart. The audience perched at the edge of their seat; someone screamed. All except for one. She just smiled, guessing what came next.

It was a trick she'd seen him do with the mercenaries in the rebel camp where they had met. Trowa waited until the last possible second, then caught the deadly blade with scant inches to spare. He then took the act beyond what she knew, as, moving for the first time since he'd taken his place at the beginning of the act, he whirled the knife back at his sister. Swiftly, he pulled three of the knives she had thrown at him from their place in the board behind him and redirected them at her. Thus began an intricate game of catch, with each grab and toss better and more extraordinary than the one before it. In the end, each sibling held a knife in each hand; they gave an actor's bow and left the ring to wild applause.

She lost track of the number of performances between this act and the second time he appeared on stage. This time, his partner was a great lion. The beast roared at the crowd, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that it was no tame pussycat. Trowa seemed undisturbed by its display of might, however. He kept one hand buried in its mane while the introductions were made, his face calm, his visible eye staring at the audience impassively.

The act was impressive. While the lion paced around the ring, licking its chops and making playful (at least, she _hoped_ they were playful!) lunges at the audience, Trowa scaled a ladder that led to a tightrope about ten feet off the ground. He strolled across it as if it were as wide as a city sidewalk, perfectly at ease above the ground. Then, with some kind of silent signal, lion and boy broke into a run. The big cat was right beneath him as he displayed his skill at acrobatics with a couple of handsprings and his signature triple flip. She smiled at that. She remembered that flip!

The flip had taken him past the end of the wire. The lion leaped into the air, and Trowa landed on its back. They rode around the ring like something from a fairytale. The crowd cheered as they exited the ring. She cheered with them.

She barely remembered the rest of the show. It seemed to pass both terribly fast and agonizingly slowly for her, but at last it was over. She followed the crowd out, then slipped away, calling on all her skills from years of spywork to remain undetected.

Following a hunch, she went straight for the lion tent. She found him inside. He sat beside the lion's cage, one arm threaded through the bars to scratch his furry companion behind the ears as if it were a domestic housecat ready to climb into his lap and start to purr. He absently ate a sandwich with his free hand.

He looked up when she entered, holding perfectly still in what could only be surprise. She smiled. She had learned to walk silently, but somehow he had still heard her.

Their eyes met. She could see recognition in his and wondered what he saw in hers.

"I... I'm sorry to bother you," she began. "It's just that..." Here she stopped, unsure of how to continue.

The lion, apparently having had enough of Trowa's stillness, gave a low growl and butted the boy with its head. His expression softened, and he returned to stroking the cat. His eyes, however, never left hers.

Licking her lips, she somehow managed, "I saw you in one of the circus posters, and I... I wanted to see you, Nanashi."

He didn't answer at first. When he did speak, his voice was just as she remembered. "I'm sorry, miss. Nanashi died a few years ago. You've got the wrong guy."

She smiled softly, knowing what he meant. "I understand. I'll go, then." Turning, she went to the entrance of the tent. She could feel his eyes on her back the whole way.

She stopped when she reached the tent. Looking over her shoulder, she couldn't resist asking, "Did you find it? What you were looking for... a home... Did you find it?"

He hesitated, then nodded.

She smiled again. "I'm glad. Good bye, Trowa."

And she left. Taking a page from his book, she didn't look back.

* * *

A/N: That came out different than I expected, but hey, you can't deny the muse what it wants, can you? I didn't state Midii's name intentionally. When she knew him, he had no name, so it seemed kind of fitting that his "name" was the only one that was mentioned. What did you think? I'd love to hear your opinions. 


End file.
